On the Outside
by TVJunkie1013
Summary: This fic occurs just after a Sona escape. I wrote this a very, very long time ago and forgot to upload it here. Obviously things happened a little differently ... Enjoy!


**Title: **On the Outside  
**Author: **Me  
**Fandom: **Prison Break  
**Pairing: **Michael/Mahone  
**Prompt: **#5 Outsides  
**Rating: **M  
**Word Count:** 5908  
**Disclaimer: **Nope … I still don't own anything. And if I did, well, let's just say that this pairing would so totally be canon.  
**Summary: **Alex and Michael escape Sona. They do some soul searching on the beach as they wait for Linc and Sucre to come get them.  
**Warning: **There are spoilers for a few episodes in here (Manhunt, Otis, Good Fences … to name a few) … but if you're a Michael/Mahone junkie, you already know the scenes I used so you won't be spoiled. Also, there are some minor references other episodes, but dontcha think y'all should be caught up by now? ;-)

**A/N: **This fic occurs just after a Sona escape. I wrote this a very, very long time ago and forgot to upload it here. Obviously things happened differently. But this is what I imagined at the time. Enjoy!

* * *

The two men burst through the trees and threw themselves down onto the sand. They lay there, flat on their stomachs, side by side, and listened to the darkness surrounding them. Save for their panting breath and the soft, steady sound of the water lapping along the edge of the Panamanian shore, they heard nothing. No sirens. No gunshots.

They waited. Long minutes passed. Still nothing. Only silence and nature's soothing music.

Alex Mahone felt the tension drain out of his body. He flipped onto his back and took a deep, cleansing breath. His eyes lifted to the sky above him. It was pitch-black - darker than he'd ever seen in his entire life. The moon, round and full, was shining brightly against the inky backdrop; its light casting a ghostly white glow along the length of the beach. Thousands of stars dotted the heavens. Alex closed his eyes and exhaled.

"It worked," he whispered breathlessly to the man beside him. "Jesus, Michael. It actually worked." Alex paused and sat. He ran his fingers through his tussled hair and, after giving a low chuckle, he continued, "I'll admit that when Whistler first told me about your plan, and the fact that Lechero was involved, I was more than skeptical," he glanced over at Scofield, who was still laying belly-down in the sand, but he had turned his head to the side and laid it atop his crossed arms. Alex could see his brilliant blue-green eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "But, you really pulled it off. I guess I, of all people, should've known better than to doubt your abilities."

"Maybe," the younger man said quietly then turned over and sat as well, "maybe not."

"So, now what?"

"Now," Michael glanced down at his watch, "we wait for Linc and Sucre. Linc said that they'd be here by 2:30am. That's only thirty minutes from now. We must have run faster than we needed to; we're pretty early."

"And Whistler? Lechero? McGrady?"

"What about them?"

"Are we waiting for them too?"

"No. Linc has LJ. He's safe. I don't need Whistler any more." He was silent for a moment. "His fate is going to be decided by him, not by me. And Lechero just needed me to help him get past the walls. McGrady - him I'm a little more concerned about, but he's young and he's smart. He'll be fine once he reaches his dad. The thing is, I'm tired of being the one who has to plan everything, to make sure that everything is _just right_. I got them out; the rest is up to them."

"Huh. Them," Alex wondered aloud. He could hear the skepticism in his own voice as he spoke, "them, but not me."

"Alex," Michael interrupted. There was caution in his tone. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because this isn't the time or place to have that conversation," he hissed from between clenched teeth. "We just broke out of Sona for gods' sake! Can't it wait until we're somewhere a little more, I don't know, safe?"

"Okay, Michael," Alex threw his hands in the air, "fine. But, can I at least ask you one question?"

"Is there anything I can do to stop you?"

"Not really." He chose his next words carefully. "After everything that's happened - between us, between our families - why didn't you just leave me to rot in there? I wouldn't have blamed you if you had."

"I seem to remember you not giving me much of a choice," Michael snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word. "With the whole 'shank slammed into the wall an inch away from my skull, threatening to not miss next time' thing, I figured my options were pretty limited."

"I was high when I did that, Michael."

"I _know_ you were, _Alex_. But you did do it. And the fact that you were high? Is _that_supposed to make me feel better about it happening?"

"No, and I wasn't trying to make excuses either." Alex stood and began to pace back and forth in front of Michael. "What I did was pretty fucked up. I _admit_that, okay? But you need to understand something, Michael. I was going through some pretty heavy withdrawal in there. You saw the way I was shaking all the time. It got so bad that I was starting to hallucinate. I kept seeing Haywire …"

"Haywire? You were hallucinating Haywire?" Michael barked out a laugh. "That's interesting. Old ghosts coming back to haunt you, Alex?"

"He committed suicide," Alex muttered tightly.

"Sure he did," Michael snidely agreed, "with absolutely no help from you, I'm sure."

"Can I finish?" Alex spat back, and when Michael nodded, he continued. "Anyway, I kept seeing Haywire all over Sona. He told me not to trust you. Said that you and Whistler were going to betray me. Leave me behind. And even though the withdrawal was hitting me really bad, I …"

"He was right."

"… hadn't used any heroin yet. But then, when I found the pen in your old cell … wait. What?"

"Whistler and I," Michael stood and brushed the sand off his clothes, "we planned on leaving you behind."

Alex stopped in his tracks. Michael's words and the calm manner in which he'd spoken them washed over him like a tidal wave. The shock he felt was quickly replaced with anger. It burned through his veins, fiery and alive. He spun on his heels, his eyes finding, and then fixing on Michael's. The younger man's mouth was curled up in one corner. Alex had seen that expression on Michael's face before and his fury swelled.

"Sorry," Michael shrugged and began to walk slowly down towards the water's edge. When he reached it, he turned back around to face Alex. "But then …"

"You son of a bitch!" Alex roared and charged him. Michael was knocked down to the ground, his back slamming into the soft, ocean-soaked sand. A moment later, Alex was on him, straddling Michael's hips and using his thighs to pin Michael's arms to his sides. He drew back his right hand and punched Michael squarely in the jaw. "You were stringing me along the whole time!" His fingers twisted into Michael's shirt and Alex leaned in so their faces were only about an inch apart. "And that pen. That _fucking_pen! Do you even know what I did to get that thing for you?"

"Alex," Michael tried to break in, but the older man kept ranting.

"I had to … Jesus fucking CHRIST, Michael! I had to suck that scumbag Juarez off for that pen!" His fist slammed into Michael's face a second time. "And for what?"

Alex pulled back for another punch, but Michael managed to get his arms free and stopped it from meeting its mark by grabbing Alex's forearm. He bucked his hips up hard and shoved the other man backwards. When Alex tipped off balance, Michael rolled out from beneath him. Then, quick as a flash, Alex was on _his_ back in the sand and Michael was straddling _him_.

He tried to struggle, but the younger man had him held tight. Michael was much stronger than Alex had originally thought. The kid hid it well.

"Alex, stop."

"Fuck you!" Adrenalin surged through Alex. He strained to get free, but only managed to get his shoulders to pop up off the ground. He was pushed back down immediately. "Let me up, Scofield!"

"Would you just shut your mouth and listen to me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, I don't have you pinned to the wall with a knife," Michael snapped sarcastically, "but no. Right now, you do _not_have a choice."

"Fine," Alex stopped fighting and allowed his body to go semi-limp. The tide came up and splashed over them, soaking their clothes. "Talk. But I can't promise that I'll give a shit about anything you have to say."

"Fair enough," Michael agreed and shifted his weight slightly, but he did not get off of Alex. "You might be surprised, though."

"I doubt it," Alex snit.

"You know what, Alex? I think I have some pretty valid reasons for wanting to leave you behind. You killed my father, damnit! Killed him! You tried to kill Linc. And you tried to kill _me_. Numerous times. For all I know, you might have tried to kill Sara and LJ too! I think I had … _have_a right to be a little pissed off at you. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah, you do," Alex agreed quietly. He swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat, "I didn't know he was your father. I really didn't know. Not until after …"

"Maybe not, but you shot him and killed him. And you _do_ know who Linc is. And LJ. And Sara. And Sucre. These are all people I care about and _you_, given the chance, would have taken them away from _me_too. You," Michael jabbed Alex in the ribcage with his index finger, "Special Agent Alexander Mahone of the FBI. No one else."

A sob burst from Michael, but it was choked off. Alex watched as the man quickly pulled himself back into control. The former agent marveled at the ease in which Michael was able to reign his emotions in. Alex wished he had that ability.

"Michael, I'm …"

"Please," Michael held up his hand to stop Alex from speaking, "don't apologize. I don't need that from you. I _know_ you did what you had to do to protect the people _you_ care about. I understand your motives." He sighed then released his grip on Alex's other shoulder and sat back on his heels. "I gave up everything I had. Job, friends, food, sleep. Christ, Alex," his hands flew to the hem of his shirt and he jerked it up and over his head, "I spent a year planning the escape. Then I had the entire thing tattooed on my body, committed armed robbery and got myself thrown into _prison_. All to save my brother. Believe me, I get it."

When Michael's shirt came off, Alex inhaled sharply. He'd never actually seen the tattoo, in the flesh, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching up and tracing it with his fingertips. It was mesmerizing. The raven-hued ink scrawled over Michael's pale torso. He marveled at the intricate details.

It was perfect.

Each line. Every nuance. All a piece of the puzzle Alex had somehow managed to solve. He traced down the blade of the devil's sword, then back up along the edge of the angel's wing. Under his fingertips, the tattoo pulsed with life. Goosebumps peppered Michael's skin, but Alex barely noticed. All he could think of was the hours he'd spent staring at and studying photo after photo of this masterpiece. And here it was. Right in front of him. In all its glory. Now, seeing it with his own eyes, Alex felt as if he were looking directly into Michael's mind. Into his soul.

"Alex."

Michael's hand closing over his own startled Alex back into the present. He exhaled forcefully, the air exiting his lungs with a loud 'whoosh'. His face was covered in a slick sheen of sweat and Alex was mortified when he realized that he had an erection. And that it was pressed, roughly, against the groin of the man straddling him. With every bit of strength he could muster, Alex shoved Michael off, rolled away and jumped to his feet. He could feel the heat of a blush rushing into his cheeks, and saw that Michael's face was turning crimson as well, but Alex's embarrassment was so immense, that he couldn't maintain any kind of eye contact with him, so instead, he turned his gaze to the water.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. His heart was hammering in his ribcage so hard that he thought it might burst out of his chest. Images of Michael, of his tattoo, kept sweeping through his mind. He couldn't stop them from coming no matter how hard he tried, and his erection pulsed within his jeans in response. Alex dropped his hands down to cover it. "Shit!"

"Alex," again. Softer this time.

Michael's quiet, calming voice in his ear. His warm, smooth hand on his forearm. Alex jerked away as if he'd been burned.

"What's wrong? Are you embarrassed," Michael couldn't suppress a chuckle, "because your body had a reaction to me?"

"Of course I am," Alex felt his blush deepen. He sank down onto the wet sand and wrapped his hands around his head. "Jesus, Michael."

"Alex, look at me," he waited until Alex turned and met his eyes, "did you happen to miss the fact that I'm hard too?" Alex couldn't respond. Michael shook his head, then sat down beside him. "I want to tell you something. If you'll listen, that is."

Alex had to force himself to ignore the warmth of the other man's shoulder as it pressed against his own. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded.

"Do you remember back in Chicago? In that Oswego cemetery? I was there, watching you study E. Chance Wood's grave, wondering how in the hell you managed to figure out where I was going," Michael began to stroke his fingers absentmindedly over his tattoo, "and as I stayed there, spying on you, I swear I felt myself becoming more and more aroused. God help me, Alex, I knew you were FBI. I _knew_ you were there to find me and bring me in. But I swear I could _not_make myself move, let alone run. If Linc hadn't come back and basically dragged me off with him, you would have found me, standing in those trees just above you, frozen in place."

Michael picked up his shirt and rolled it up into a ball. He dipped it in the surf then held it against his chin, wincing slightly at the contact. Alex felt a sting of guilt in his gut.

"Sorry 'bout those punches."

"I've had worse," Michael admitted with a chuckle. "Definitely better than having my car rammed by a renegade FBI agent."

"Yeah. I'm sure." Alex dug his hands into the wet sand, picking it up in his palm, then letting it seep between his fingers. "I knew you were there, you know? At the cemetery. I didn't actually see you. I ... _felt_ you. Felt your eyes on me, but when I looked up, all I saw was your back disappearing into the trees." Alex shook his head and laughed, "and I'm guessing you can probably figure out why it was impossible for me to jump up and chase you immediately," he turned and glanced at Michael. "I probably could have caught you right then and there, but I definitely needed a moment to, uh, gather my thoughts." The corner of his mouth curled up, "Isn't it amazing that I was turned on just by the _idea_of you?"

"Not so amazing."

Alex felt him slide a little closer. Their bodies were now in full contact from shoulder to hip to ankle. Alex's skin tingled when the younger man began to speak again. Michael's voice was soft, soothing, and Alex could listen to him all day long.

"What about in that elevator at the Chicago County Courthouse? 'Otis. Three. On the right.' wasn't it? When I opened that hatch and you were standing there with LJ, my heart stopped beating. Honestly, in that moment, I didn't know if I was more afraid of you, amazed at the fact that you were actually there … or turned on by you. The way you looked up at me. It was hypnotic. Dangerous. I knew then, that there was some kind of connection between us. That you were someone who I wanted to know better. _Needed_to know better."

"That was the first time I actually _saw_you. In person. God, you looked …" Alex paused and chewed nervously at the inside of his cheek.

"I looked what, Alex. Tell me."

A warm hand dropped on top of his, fingertips tracing the backs of his knuckles, and Alex sighed heavily. He may as well just say it. There was no point in hiding anything now.

"Beautiful. You looked absolutely beautiful," he flipped his hand over and wove his fingers with Michael's. "You know, to be honest, I've never been attracted to a man before, but there was something about you. I knew I wanted you before I even laid eyes on you. And I'm not sure if it was because of your brilliance or your, uh," Alex paused and gestured at Michael's body.

"Are you trying to say that you don't know if you wanted me for my brains or my body?"

"Well, I'd only seen your body in pictures, but yes, that's what I'm saying. But in that elevator, up in that hatch, you looked so trapped. Cagey. And it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Then, when you had my gun pointed at me? Fuck. I was so hard. I remember thinking to myself that I was going to have a lot of explaining to do if those doors opened and someone came into that elevator and saw me standing there, staring at you, with the front of my pants looking like a goddamned circus tent. I'm surprised LJ didn't notice."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Michael laughed as well. "I kept hoping that Linc wouldn't see my obvious … uh … discomfort. I mean, he knows that I'm attracted to both men and women. But you? The FBI agent chasing us down and trying to kill us?" He shuddered, "That was a conversation I wasn't quite ready to have with him."

The men continued laughing for a moment, then they fell silent. Their hands remained entwined and Michael was now running his thumb across Alex's palm; tracing circle after circle into his skin. It was methodical. And so very Michael.

"I'm sorry for going to Pam, Alex," Michael said softly and turned to face the older man. "I hope you know that I never would have hurt her. Or Cameron. I just, I needed to know about you, you know? It was the only way."

"It's okay. I knew from the very beginning that you weren't a _real_criminal, Michael. I'll admit, though, that when I heard your voice on the other end of that call, I was a little freaked. At first. But, I knew you wouldn't hurt her. You'd never hurt anyone on purpose," Alex squeezed Michael's hand. "Of course once you started talking to me in that low, threatening voice, it took everything I had in me to not come in my jockeys right then and there."

"Flatterer."

Michael pulled his hand away and brushed his knuckles across Alex's cheek. He leaned in and Alex's eyes slipped shut as the other man's mouth covered his. The kiss was tentative at first. Lips moving softly against each other. Slow. Tender. There was hesitation on both parts. Neither wanting to press the other too soon. Alex opened his mouth, inviting Michael in, and the younger man eagerly complied. His tongue slipped between Alex's lips, his hand winding its way up into Alex's hair. Electricity shot through the former agent. He felt himself being lowered onto the sand, and a moment later, Michael's body covered his.

The kiss deepened, as did Alex's arousal. His erection was pressing painfully against the restrictive denim of his jeans. Michael began to move, his hips rolling in circles, grinding his own hardness into Alex's abdomen. He worked Alex's tongue like a lollipop; licking over the flat of it, then sucking it into his cheek, before nipping at the end of it with his teeth. Alex's cock jumped in his pants and his back arched upward, pressing his solidness hard against Michael's ass.

Alex's head began spinning wildly as his heart slammed against his ribcage. He couldn't breathe and began to pant against Michael's mouth, but he refused to pull his lips away from the punishing kiss. Their tongues warred; each man wanting total control, yet desperately wanting the other to control him. Alex placed his hands on Michael's nude back and ran them over the inked muscles; his fingers tracing along the black lines from memory.

Finally, Michael broke away with a gasp and sat back on his calves. His face tipped toward the sky, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"Michael," Alex inhaled and exhaled rapidly, trying to flood his starved lungs with sweet oxygen. He raised his fingers to his kiss-swollen lips and laughed. "If you only knew how many times I've wanted to kiss you like that."

"Oh yeah," Michael mumbled. His head dipped forward and he began to nuzzle into the crook of Alex's neck. He moved over his throat, pausing to run his tongue across the Adam's apple, then settling into a spot just below Alex's ear lobe. Michael bit down lightly then sucked at the soft skin, pulling blood to the surface, and leaving behind a perfect circle of red. "Is that so?"

Alex growled and grabbed Michael by the waist. He rolled and threw the engineer onto his back, then climbed on top him.

"Yes, that's so," he answered, his eyes fluttering shut as Michael's hands slipped under the edge of his shirt. His palms traveled over the plane of Alex's abdomen, his fingertips finding Alex's taut nipples, "oh God, Michael. So many times," he said, leaning over and recapturing Michael's pink lips with his.

"Tell me," Michael whimpered, breaking the kiss and pulling Alex's shirt over his head. "Tell me everything. When? Where? I want to hear it all."

Alex gasped as Michael's hands feathered across his torso. They canvassed the expanse of his back and shoulders, then came to a rest in the curve of each hip. His thumbs popped the button open then slipped beneath the edge of the older man's jeans, the tips grazing over the firmness of Alex's erection. The agent's body shuddered and the corner of Michael's lips curled into a smirk.

"Michael," Alex warned, leaning in even closer, his tongue sliding across the line of Michael's chin, tenderly caressing the now-bruising flesh with the tip, "how am I supposed to tell you _anything_," he gasped again as Michael's fingers skimmed across the head of his cock. He grabbed the younger con's hands, jerked them away from his waist, and pinned them above his head. "Christ, Scofield! How am I supposed to form a coherent thought when you're touching me like that?"

"I'm sorry," Michael pouted. His lower lip quivered, but his eyes twinkled brightly as they filled with an innocence that Alex knew better than to believe, "I'll stop."

Alex smiled in response and tightened his hold on the other man.

"I didn't say I wanted you to stop," he kissed Michael hard on the mouth, "it's just that you shouldn't expect a well-told story if you insist on fingering my dick while I'm trying to tell it."

"I promise to stop touching your dick, Agent Mahone." Michael's smirk grew into a full-fledged smile. "I'll never do it again. Scouts honor."

"Asshole," Alex muttered and released Michael's hands. One immediately slid back down the front of Alex's pants. The other found its way up Alex's torso and wrapped around his neck. He was yanked down into another brutal kiss. Teeth met lips and he tasted blood. Whether it was his or Michael's, he didn't know. And he didn't care. All he wanted was Michael's hands on his body and Michael's lips on his lips. Nothing else mattered.

"Too many clothes," Alex groaned against Michael's mouth, "I need to feel ... skin."

Then they were standing and fingers were fumbling with buttons and zippers. Shoes were kicked off, jeans were shed and tossed unceremoniously to the side; all unwanted and quickly forgotten. Alex shoved Michael back to the sand and dropped down onto his knees beside him. He eyed the younger man's erection hungrily, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.

"For someone who's only done this once before, and it wasn't exactly in a 'pleasant' situation," Michael laughed softly, "you seem awfully eager to get started."

Alex answered by glaring at the engineer, then closing his mouth over Michael's cock. He skimmed his teeth along the shaft and Michael's body went rigid. A throaty cry filled the air and Michael tried to thrust his hips skyward, but Alex pressed him back into the sand and pulled his mouth away.

"I may not have given many blowjobs, Michael," he flicked his tongue over the head, eliciting another soft groan from the man, "but I've _had_enough of them to know what I'm doing."

He lowered his mouth again and began to lave the shaft with his tongue. Michael's body shook and Alex couldn't help but smirk when he heard the man mewling and moaning. He worked the tip; sucking and licking, until finally taking Michael all the way into his throat. His gag reflex engaged, but he ignored it and swallowed the feeling away. As he moved up and down Michael's length, Alex felt the veins pulsing warmly beneath the thin skin of the man's cock. Michael was getting close to the edge, but Alex wasn't quite ready to let him go. Not just yet.

A groan of disapproval burst from Michael when Alex pulled back. Again.

"Oh God, Alex," he whined, "don't stop now."

"Patience is a virtue, Michael," Alex grabbed him by the ankles and lifted his feet, placing one in the crook of each shoulder. He sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth, covered them with saliva, then slid them down to the tight opening of Michael's ass. He pushed one in, then two, massaging and stretching the puckered skin until it was more pliable. "Patience comes with age and experience, my young friend. Then again," Alex smirked and removed his fingers, replacing them with the tip of his cock, "we do have some time restraints in this particular situation, don't we?"

"Typical man," Michael complained, then growled in the back of his throat as Alex pushed into him. He arched his back again, forcing Alex fully inside, "what's a guy gotta do to get some foreplay around here?"

"Oh, Michael," Alex shook his head back and forth. He laughed; it came from deep inside his chest. Low. Guttural. He placed one hand on Michael's thigh. The other wrapped around the man's penis. He began to thrust into him. Slowly. Deliberately. "There's plenty of time for that later," he whispered. "Next time, I'll fuck you as slow as you want," Alex grunted as he plunged in and out. Faster. Harder. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. And you can do whatever you want to do to me. God, Michael. You're so tight. So. Fucking. Tight."

It was over quickly. A few thrusts more and Alex's climax hit him hot and fast. His semen emptied from him in a long, satisfying spurt. When he came, his fingers automatically tightened around Michael's erection. The younger man groaned once, hard, and his body tensed. A moment later, Michael was hissing out Alex's name and he felt a stream of warm, sticky fluid spray up and over his belly and chest.

Michael's legs started to shake. They dropped away from Alex's shoulders and wrapped around his waist. Michael slipped his arms around Alex's neck and pulled him down into another kiss. It was sweet, unrushed, and when Alex finally broke away, they were both smiling. He lay back in the sand and Michael spooned up beside him, his warm cheek pressed against Alex's chest, his fingers curling into the springy hair that peppered his skin.

"Michael?"

"Um hmmmmm?"

"The things I would have done to you if I'd been able to get you alone in that cage ..." Alex mumbled as he pressed a kiss to his temple. "God."

"Cage?"

"You know, boarder patrol lock-up?"

"Oh, yeah, right," he turned his face and smiled, his hand sliding down and around Alex's semi-rigid cock. "Will you show me someday? Those things you 'would have done'?"

"Guaranteed," Alex grabbed Michael under his arms, pulled him up and settled the younger man over his hips. "Abso-fucking-lutely guaranteed."

* * *

"Michael?" A hushed male voice cut through the darkness. "Where the hell are you, Papi?"

"Shit," Michael hissed, breaking their kiss, and rolled out from under Alex, "that's Sucre."

Alex squinted out into the night and, off to the left, he saw a solitary figure approaching them. The man was just outside of the tree line, barely visible, but he was moving fast. Alex tossed Michael his clothes and jumped to his feet.

"He's alone," Alex whispered. "Where the hell's Linc?"

"I don't know. They were both supposed to come."

They tried to dress as quickly as they could. Unfortunately, their clothes were soaked with sea water, so by the time Sucre reached them, neither man had gotten very far. There was no way for them to hide what had been happening.

"Uh … Michael, what's …"

"Honestly, Sucre," Michael said sheepishly as he jerked his wet shirt down over his body. "It's probably better if you don't ask."

Sucre's mouth dropped open in surprise. Alex watched as the man glanced in his direction, recognition coloring his eyes. All Alex could do was continue to force his legs into his soaked jeans. He felt absolutely ridiculous.

"But ... but, isn't he? I mean, isn't that?" Sucre fumbled over his words. He sighed in frustration then shook his head and turned his full attention to Alex. "Agent Mahone, right?"

"Former Agent Mahone, but yep," Alex snarked. His jeans finally gave and slid roughly over his hips. He zipped up then threw his hands out to the side. "In the flesh."

Michael grabbed Alex's shirt off the sand and threw it at him.

"Alex," he warned, "come on. Don't do that."

"Michael," Sucre spun to face his friend, his confusion clear in his expression. "You're fucking this guy?"

"It's ... it's," Michael stuttered as he struggled with his jeans, "sort of complicated, Sucre."

"Complicated? Complicated! Michael," Sucre grabbed him by the shoulders, "this is the guy who was hired to chase us down. *This* is the guy who killed your dad. And Abruzzi. And Tweener. And Haywire. He tried to kill you, and Linc! He would've killed me, too," Sucre threw a smirk over Michael's shoulder at Alex, "if he'd caught me," he added smugly.

"Day's not over yet, _Fernando_," Alex postured and took a step closer to the man.

"Stop!" Michael shouted and shoved Sucre away from him. He pointed at Alex, "You, shut up. And you," he turned on Sucre, "I said it was complicated. And that's all you need to know."

"But ..." Sucre began. Michael cut him off.

"No. It's none of your business, Sucre. This," he gestured between himself and Alex, "is between me and Alex. And he's not going to do anything to anyone. Right, _Alex_?"

"I am no longer an employee of The Company," Alex spat, "so you have nothing to worry about."

"I was never worried about you, _hermano_," Sucre countered.

"That's enough!" Michael bent to gather up his and Alex's shoes. Somewhere off in the distance a loud siren began to blast . "Shit! Let's go!" He tossed Alex his shoes and the three men bolted down the beach. "Sucre, where the hell is Linc?"

"He's waiting at the car!" Sucre shouted. He ran out ahead of Michael and Alex. When he came to a certain point, he turned into the trees. "Come on, it's this way!"

The men raced through the trees; ducking under low-hanging branches, jumping over fallen trunks. Alex felt as if they'd been running forever, when the brush suddenly opened up, exposing a semi-worn path. The men turned onto it, following Sucre all the way until it opened up into a small clearing. There was a car sitting near the edge of it. It was idling quietly and Lincoln Burrows stood beside it. Michael launched himself at his brother and the two embraced.

"Linc," Michael sobbed breathlessly and Alex's legs buckled as a wave of jealousy swept through him. He immediately shook it off. Linc _was_Michael's brother, not his lover.

"Michael, we have to get out of here now," Lincoln released his brother and leveled his gaze at Alex. "He is _not_coming with us."

"Linc, it's okay. Alex ..." Michael began to protest, but Alex quickly hushed him. He walked over to the brothers and grasped the younger one on the forearm.

"It's okay, Michael. Come on," Alex said quietly and led the man away from Lincoln. When they were hidden deep in the shadows and out of earshot, Alex pulled Michael into a tight hug. He brushed his lips across his ear. "I'll be okay. You have to let me go," he pleaded. Michael's body began twitching as he sobbed into Alex's shoulder. "Please, Michael, let me go."

"I don't know if I can. Not now. It's too soon."

"You can and you will," Alex pulled him closer. "You need to be with Linc. He needs to be with you. You're family. I'm not." He released Michael then placed his hands on either side of his face. "We will see each other again. I _will_find you. I always do. Do you think that's a coincidence? It's not." Their eyes locked and Alex dipped his head forward so that their foreheads were touching. "There are ways ..." Alex let his thought trail off and watched Michael's eyes for a glimpse of understanding.

When it came, Alex leaned in and pressed a kiss on Michael's lips.

"Promise?"

The question, softly spoken and so earnest, nearly broke Alex's heart.

"I promise, Michael. I will find you again. I have to." Alex backed away and gave Michael a gentle shove. "Now, go."

Michael nodded and ran off. He hopped into the back of the car, and Linc slammed the door behind him. The man then turned his gaze to Alex one final time. The hatred Alex saw reflected in his eyes nearly knocked him to the ground.

Then the car was speeding off through the forest, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.

Alex felt tears stinging the backs of his eyelids, but he refused to let them fall. He watched as the car faded into the blackness, taking Michael away from him. Sadness threatened to overwhelm him, but a shotgun blast shattered the silence and spurred Alex into motion.

He ran for the cover of the trees and was quickly swallowed up by the night.

* * *

* * * Six months later ... * * *

Alex Mahone sat alone in the corner of an internet cafe. He pulled the battered laptop in front of him, plugged it in and typed in the address. The website popped up and he began to scroll through the entries.

About halfway through, Alex saw what he was looking for. He took a pencil and paper, and wrote down what he'd found.

Alex hadn't smiled in a very long time, but, as he disconnected the laptop and snapped it closed, he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling into one.

"I'll see you soon," he whispered.

* * *

Michael Scofield rocked in his hammock. Back and forth. Back and forth. His right leg dangled lazily over the side, his toes dragging through the cooling sand. This was his favorite time of the day. Dusk. It was quiet. Calm. It gave him time to think. To be alone.

The surf shop was closed for the night. Linc and LJ had gone home. There was no one around to disturb him.

It had been six months since the escape and he hadn't heard one word from Alex. Week after week he waited for something, anything. None came. Had he even made it out of Panama alive? Michael didn't know.

But once a week, he'd gone to the website and posted the same message. Over and over again. Then he'd pray that Alex would remember. That he would find it and figure it out.

Today was no different.

He watched as the sun dipped its edge into the gulf, the Mexican sky behind it exploding with hues of purple, red and orange. A shadow crept over him. Michael reached up and ran his fingertips over the edge of his chin. The bruises long gone. The memories still fresh. A slow smile grew on his face.

The canvas hammock dipped slightly and Michael adjusted his body to allow for the other man's weight. Strong arms wrapped around him. Warm breath, followed by even warmer lips caressed his shoulder. He sighed contentedly and settled against the man behind him.

"Alex."

"Michael," Alex whispered as he trailed his fingertips across Michael's nude chest.

"You found me," he turned and met Alex's eyes.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. It was very brief and when they parted, Alex brushed his knuckles over Michael's cheek.

"You led me."

~Fin~


End file.
